


Autonomy

by seherrons



Series: We Are Curious Machines (Cyberhusbands) [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Android Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Cyberhusbands, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-17 23:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7290835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seherrons/pseuds/seherrons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Baby steps, J.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jarvis looked at him again, one brow arched delicately as he narrowed his blue eyes into a frown at his creator.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I do believe you were the one to tell me to run before I walked, sir.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tony raised a hand, his fingers dipping through the soft blond locks upon the man’s head, carding through the strands he was met with and smiling as Jarvis instinctively leant into his touch. Without a word. Completely on his own.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“For you I’ll make an exception.”</em>
</p><p>Direct sequel to Creation, though it can also be read on its own if you're so inclined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Autonomy

There were many things that Tony Stark would prefer remained left unsaid.

Obadiah Stane, for instance. The unpleasant affair concerning last week’s break-in and attempt on Tony’s very life. He didn’t want to think about that again for another minute.

Pepper, his very own assistant. The outrage she had shown when he’d so proudly revealed to her the project that he had been so secretly working on (her choice of words, not his. _‘Secretly’_ carried with it all sorts of connotations that he found distasteful given a man of his profession: an inventor, philanthropist) – even Jarvis had been put out by her sheer disbelief. And when Jarvis was upset, Tony found it personal.

And of course, it was the matter of Jarvis himself. Brilliant, _brilliant_ Jarvis. Once an AI, now a proud owner of a hand-made meatsuit that could walk and talk and pass off as a human to a degree that most humans couldn’t pass off themselves. There were many things concerning his genius creation that Tony would rather leave unsaid, at least until a time so much as when said things could be approached away from the prying eyes and ears of that ravenous pack of wolves - the insatiable reporters and press.

To keep Jarvis safe, he had to put these things behind him for now. The way he’d single-handedly overthrown Obadiah Stane, left him for the police battered and bruised beyond all physical recognition. The… rather intriguing state of affairs that had taken place soon after, when Tony’s mind was still reeling from the brush with paralysis, the rush of adrenalin, the irregular hammering of a heartbeat that had come so terrifyingly close to stilling forevermore… the resultant display of affection (perhaps _more_ than affection), of gratitude that had compelled him to try it out, to see just how much control Jarvis really _did_ have over his expertly-crafted limbs.

The memory of that kiss still haunted him, though not in the way that would leave Tony gasping for breath each night, fists clenching the bedsheets, body drenched in a fine coating of sweat as memories of Afghanistan, of rockets, of blood, of _murder_ flooded his tormented brain and threatened to drown him whole under the weight of his guilt, his inability to act, to prevent such travesties from ever occurring. It haunted him as a fond memory did, like how a simple curiosity grew – took on a life of its own, transformed, changed, doubled in size over time and nagged at his brain until it began to pick it apart, turn it inside out, leech into his very thoughts and seize relentless control.

A probing urge to talk, to think, to understand, to _explain_.

And still he let it remain unsaid. Jarvis certainly hadn’t seen fit to bring it up in casual conversation either, perhaps no doubt born of his inherent understanding of his creator, his innate sense to pick up on the slightest tells of Tony’s mind – those niggling little _things_ that he didn’t want to address until he himself was comfortable with doing so.

But, unfortunately, Tony couldn’t always get what he wanted. And today was just such a day. He wanted to know. To talk. To think. To understand.

To explain.

And perhaps get an explanation in turn.

Any chance he could get to pick at Jarvis’s now not-so metaphorical brain was a chance that he couldn’t pass up. The man was an enigma enshrouded in perfection that continued to leave Tony breathless wherever he stood. Jarvis was no longer that disembodied presence, that comforting hum of computers and sockets in the background. He was a living, breathing autonomous _being_ , capable of sight, sound, smell, touch…

And he hungered for more – hungered for that information, that understanding that Tony knew only he could fully appreciate should Jarvis humour him and divulge his secrets. What made him respond? What made him act on his own accord? What made him choose to remain here at Tony’s side now that he had the freedom to – quite literally – go anywhere he wished?

The inventor in him stood with hands eagerly rubbing together, a purely famished look in his eyes, such was his thirst for knowledge as it was. But he maintained his calm, his composure, his care-free ‘if it’s not my problem, it’s not my problem’ attitude as he cleared his throat and clutched his hands tightly around the cups in his hold, his pace quick on the steps as he descended to the lower bowels of his Malibu home. 

The sparks flying from metal and the hissing of technology was a welcome sight to behold as Tony walked into his workshop, black coffee in tow. The workspace before him was littered with the ever-present and ever-growing collection of wires and computers marking new projects and new designs he’d been tinkering with over the course of the past few weeks – with a few new additions, of course.

Those new additions being the suit of black and gold encased titanium alloy, skeletal-looking and utterly catastrophic in battle, yet sleek and efficient in the protection it offered despite the lack of reinforced armour fitted to it – and the man crouched before it, welding mask securely fastened in place over his head as he set to routinely repair and modify the suit’s gauntlets.

“Workin’ hard, Jarv?” Tony called out, placing the second mug of coffee he’d been holding in his left hand down upon the bench nearby the armour and the figure currently engrossed in his work. The sparks stopped flying and the man pulled back, lifting his free hand to pull his visor back to fix cobalt blue eyes upon the brunet standing before him.

“Always, sir,” Jarvis intoned warmly, though by the subtle arch of a blond brow and the faintest hint of his signature snark in that soothing British drawl of his, he was clearly making a point to heavily convey sarcasm with those words.

Tony’s lips cracked into a wide grin, and he nodded his head to the coffee he’d just placed upon the bench.

“Yeah, yeah. Real cute, J. Brought that down for you in case you wanted it.”

A smile fixed itself effortlessly upon thin, pale lips, and Jarvis inclined his head in a polite nod to his creator.

“Thank you, sir.”

Tony took a step back, busying himself with running his eyes over the masterpiece that was the suit that Jarvis himself had built, a work of harrowing skeletal-looking alloys that moved with such grace and fluidity when worn that Tony felt like his own genius AI mastermind was giving him a run for his money. He couldn’t resist the smirk that spilled upon his lips as he paused, looking over the empty suit’s shoulder to eye Jarvis’s reaction to the coffee the blond man (he disliked _android_ – such a distasteful word to describe something so realistic, so _pure_ ) had just carefully raised to his pale mouth, testing with cautious lips.

The expression of shock bordering on emphasised repugnance that crossed Jarvis’s otherwise smooth features was so _human_ looking that for an instant Tony laughed, the sound ringing through the otherwise silent workshop as he watched the blond carefully place the coffee mug back down on the nearby bench with his slender hand. He quickly coughed, trailing off into light chuckles when those blue eyes swept over to study him, Jarvis no doubt taking a few much-needed moments to process the input, analyse the output of the sensory information his synthesised brain was running over.

“You don’t like it?” Tony asked, grin wide on his lips and threatening to split his face in two. Jarvis’s brows furrowed ever so faintly.

“It’s… bitter.”

Tony chuckled again, raising his own mug to his lips and taking a long swig, sighing contentedly as he swallowed.

“Takes some getting used to. Probably should’ve made you one with milk. Makes it sweeter.”

“It _was_ decidedly unpleasant in the mouth, yes.”      

Tony snorted at that, placing his mug down now and nodding to the suit of armour before him, running his dark hazel eyes over the figure of immaculately sculpted black and gold. He would approach his purpose for coming here, that elephant in the room soon enough. He had to ease into it. Work himself slowly towards his goal. He knew that Jarvis had already suspected what he had _really_ come down here for when he was supposed to be holding a stock market meeting in Los Angeles at that current moment in time in the first place, but to his credit the blond remained silent and did not probe. Rather, he waited.

Ever the patient one. Ever the butler.

Tony elicited another chuckle at that thought.

“How’re the repairs coming along?”

Jarvis turned his attention towards his suit once more, the ghost of a smile gracing his pale lips. Once again, Tony found himself grinning at the habitual action so common of humans that the AI had mastered seemingly effortlessly. He really _had_ picked up on a lot since he’d uploaded himself into the body he’d hand-designed and hand-built. To say that Tony was impressed was a gross understatement – in fact, he didn’t think he’d ever been so proud of anything (or any _one_ ) in his entire life. He’d often made it a point of informing Jarvis of that too, which would only make that thin smile grow into something wide and mesmerising. He was quite seriously contemplating whether or not to ask Jarvis to make that his default expression now.

“They are nearing one hundred percent completion, sir,” Jarvis announced, his smooth voice washing calmly over Tony’s ears as the blond gestured with his hand to the Mark XLI. “Though I must admit, I was perhaps somewhat overeager in deploying the repulsors when I apprehended Mr Stane. I did not have enough time to fully calibrate the energy needed to operate them within safe parameters.”

Tony closed his eyes, lifting a hand to run it through the unruly locks of his un-brushed hair. He took a deep breath, held it, then slowly exhaled.

The memory of Obadiah Stane and what he’d threatened him with… paralysing him… putting everything he held dear in danger… slandering his company, his name and promoting global _terrorism…_ he felt his throat constrict, tighten uncomfortably.

He forced a smile on his lips.

“Not like you to skip over calibrating stuff, J,” he mused drily. He looked at the blond, watching him carefully and with dark, humourless eyes as the blue eyed man merely inclined his head towards his creator, glancing up at him from under his fine, pale lashes.

“You were in immediate danger. I believe I panicked, sir,” he answered softly. The smile on Tony’s lips drew to a thin line.

“Not like you to panic, either.”

It was then that Jarvis took a step forwards, his hands lowering to extend to his physical body.

“None of this is ‘like me’,” he reminded him. “But now it is. I must make do with the shortcomings that organic emotion and feeling thrust upon me.”

Tony scoffed, offering Jarvis a crooked smile as he picked up his mug again and sipped some more coffee. Now they were getting there.

“You make it sound like a curse. Having second thoughts already? Don’t forget this _was_ your idea in the first place.”

The smile offered on Jarvis’s lips now echoed strong amusement, or as near enough to the human emotion that the AI had learned to pick up on thanks to his time spent studying and learning the basic traits of human interaction from Tony and those who would visit his Malibu home – Pepper, Rhodey, even Obadiah.

“A curse with rather pleasant outcomes, if I may be so frank as to correct you, sir.” A pause, and then a soft chuckle – a sound which Tony found his smile widening to. “And here we finally come to that question which you’ve been meaning to ask me for well over three days now.”

If Jarvis took note of the pause in Tony’s breath, the way he held his chest still, sucking in no air as if out of fear of missing whatever it was that Jarvis was going to say next, the blond took no verbal note of it. Instead he merely continued, his tone light, airy, as if he was speaking about the weather.

“Everything I have done, everything I have and will _continue_ to do, has been for you, sir. You know this. You programmed this function into me upon my creation. Had I fully intended to cause Mr Stane so much grievous injury in relation to him assaulting your person? Undoubtedly, yes.”

He paused, his blue eyes centring on the man beside him, Tony slowly reaching for his coffee once more to take another long sip, still finding himself unable to speak, unable to breathe. Jarvis continued, picking up a nearby cloth with his grease-stained, slender hands, neatly wiping off the excess oil from his palms before folding the cloth back upon the tabletop once more.

“I did so because he threatened that which was my charge to protect. As for my… response to your physical affections that night, I merely acted as I deemed appropriate for the situation. At first, that is to say.”

Tony finally found the strength to speak.

“At first?” He echoed, his voice sounding hollow to his own ears. Jarvis nodded, that smile firmly in place upon his thin lips once more as he fixed Tony with another careful, considerate stare. A stare that told him more than his words ever could, like a window into that brilliant, _brilliant_ mind within.  

“My apologies, sir. I know this was not what you intended.”

“What, a positive response to my act of scientific curiosity? What’s there to be sorry about?” Tony tried to make light of it, but even he could tell that Jarvis could see right through the carefully forced smile upon his lips, the fake twitch of his mouth upwards into a crooked grin.

Jarvis turned his head, grabbing the dirty cloth on the table once more and rubbing the last of the grease off of his fingers before replying, his voice carefully modulated – a slow, cautious sound.

“To answer your first question,” he continued, choosing to ignore Tony’s quip (something Tony found himself clearing his throat uncertainly to), “… no. No, I do not regret it. It is a gift, this… autonomy. This ability to live and learn amongst you.”

Tony considered him for a moment, regarding those sharp, intelligent features – slender nose, vivid, piercing eyes, pale lips, firm cheekbones and fair skin marred only by the shadow of his cropped, light blond hair under the downlights from above.

_Live and learn amongst us… right._

Tony could have almost laughed.

 _If they didn’t know any better, he could easily_ be _one of us._ He was flawless.

And Jarvis might have tried to dress it up, to try to hide that meaning behind his words and bury it six feet under by changing the subject as he had, but that very meaning to what he had said was clear as day.

Tony was left astounded, astonished.

_“I know this was not what you intended…”_

Jarvis’s words rang through his head, echoing like the tolling of a great bell. It certainly hadn’t been what he’d originally intended, that was for sure.

_“I do not regret it...”_

It was harmless – Tony kept telling himself that it was, anyway. He’d been known for doing a great number of things both just as and exceedingly notorious than that.

Compared to those other things, this… _this_ was nothing.

And yet Tony didn’t know what to do.

So he did the only thing he _could_ do in that moment.

He rolled with it.

“Autonomy, eh?” He ended up musing, his arms crossing thoughtfully over his chest as he watched the blond crouch down once more before the armour, arms bare in the tank top he wore (one of Tony’s spare shirts that he would often wear down here in the workshop), the lightly, almost delicately muscled skin now blemished here and there with the tell-tale dark rings of further oil stains and grease yet to be cleaned off. _Like father, like son_ , part of his mind supplied, and he would have again laughed at that if such a thought didn’t feel so… largely unfitting. Largely disconcerting, given the current state of things. 

“And how are you liking that so far? That autonomy?”

Jarvis paused, his methodical movements stalling as he tilted his head, turning to fix a calm stare once more upon the man beside him. There was a moment of silence, until it was broken by first the subtle twitch of lips upwards, curving into a pleasant smirk, then followed by a considerate sigh, a soft exhalation of breath that was so natural that Tony found himself riveted.

“It is… exhilarating, sir.” Jarvis’s voice gave no lie. “You have given me permission to learn, to react accordingly. To make judgement. To experience movement and touch, taste, smell, sight, sound… to make decisions based on each of these individual sensory things.”

He’d risen to his feet now, turning full-bodied to face Tony, sparing his creator a singular appreciative glance that had Tony’s smile soften. He recognised that look well – in fact, it was one he recognised as having so often sported himself when faced with the prospect of new designs in the workshop, new prototypes for suits… it was the look of a genius, an inventor… someone who saw in-between the lines and didn’t let anything escape their grasp. Someone who fully appreciated all imperfections, all flaws, sought to build upon them, improve them above and beyond what they were capable of. Someone who could change the _world_ – who had the means, the knowledge and the courage how. Someone who was so like him, in each and every way, that he would find it so easy to forget himself and feel as if they were the only two who existed in this wonderful, _wonderful_ reality they made for themselves.

Creators making creations, and the creations becoming the creators. A beautiful endless cycle built upon the knowledge that they shared.

Tony found he often didn’t wax poetic, but when it came to Jarvis, hell… he could afford a moment or two.

“And?” He couldn’t resist asking, Tony for the moment completely ignoring how dry his voice sounded to his own ears. Damn genius creation of his was making him tear up. But he wasn’t going to back down from this – of course he wasn’t. He was Tony Stark. Genius. Billionaire. Playboy. Philanthropist.

If anything, the more they talked about this, dancing around the subject like clowns at a circus – teasing jibes, all manner of theatrics, anything to make the people laugh… anything to put it off for just a little while longer, but ever so craftily gliding, twirling, dancing back towards that centre, that final push they needed to hit the nail on the head… the more he found that scientific curiosity blossoming anew.

He wanted to test it – to see the extent of Jarvis’s limits. Hell, he’d be crazy _not_ to. He was nothing if not a mad scientist, after all. Progress was nothing without sacrifice, and considering he had no outstanding morals to sacrifice in the first place, he found no problem with this development.  

The smile that Jarvis bore upon his thin lips was blinding. As if he’d somehow guessed Tony’s thoughts. Damn guy probably could, for all Tony knew. He felt a familiar rush, a friendly buzz of warmth pulse in his chest at the thought.  

“I like it, sir,” Jarvis answered smoothly, sincerely. His cobalt eyes seemed to flash, to shine with as much brilliant luminosity as his smile as he took a step closer. “I like it very much.”

“Damn it,” Tony croaked, laughing now as he rubbed a hand over his face. “You’re makin’ your old man cry.”

The chuckle he was rewarded with sounded close by, and when he lifted his head again he arched a brow when he saw the reason for why that was – Jarvis had taken another step closer, and he was in effect now standing directly before him, close enough for Tony to take in each intricate detail of that porcelain-looking face; features sharp like granite, fused with the strength of vibranium-alloy, but soft like the whisper of a feather against skin. Gazing into those calm blue eyes now, he could see the blackened pupils circling, rotating slowly clockwise, counter clockwise – eyes comprised of the miniaturised monitors that Jarvis had so often used to record the daily workings of the house through the computers set up through the entirety of the complex. It was hypnotising, the calming movement of those eyes almost lulling Tony into an unblinking haze.

“My apologies, sir. I thought you could handle it.”

Jarvis’s quick tongue, sharp as the wit he carried snapped Tony out of it, and before he could think to retort he had only enough time to fire an unimpressed glare towards the man before him when Jarvis had reached out with one hand – skin warm, four degrees warmer than any standard human’s body – and lightly cupped Tony’s cheek in slender fingers. That quickly caught his attention, and his brow arched as he merely waited, calmly watching to observe what Jarvis would do next, eager in his own scientific way to see how Jarvis would react to his environment, evaluate the sensory input, respond with sensory output…

In fact, even now he could see those eyes, the onyx black pupils contracting, circling… calculating frequencies, equations, probabilities…

And so Tony offered no resistance when those pale lips moved closer, leant in… and his eyes merely slipped closed, his free hand raising to thread approvingly through soft blond locks as mouths met and warm heat encased his lips in a firm, curious touch.

Much like the first time, he was left to groan lightly in satisfaction, in deep fulfilment as Jarvis took the initiative and learnt, responded… made decisions of his own, _connected_ … and the smile that softly grew upon those pale lips was reward enough as he drew closer towards the warmth of Tony’s chest, his kiss lingering upon his creator’s lips as he drew back.

Tony opened his eyes, and he traced his lips with his tongue in measured licks, savouring the tasteless heat that pulsed upon his mouth from those very lips which even now remained curled upwards at him in a satisfied smile.

His chest buzzed, bubbled with pride and a hunger which left his curiosity unfulfilled, and he returned that very smile with a knowing smirk.

“How’s that autonomy still going for you?” He couldn’t help but goad him one more time. Jarvis merely responded with another blinding smile. His free hand slid down to the dip of Tony’s waist, his palm a reassuring comfort against Tony’s clothed skin.

_“Divine.”_

The low groan that uttered its way from Tony’s lips surprised even himself at Jarvis’s low admission.  

 _“Fuck.”_ The word had fallen from his mouth before he had control over what he was saying. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his brow, momentarily pushing aside the thoughts of concentrating on the feel of Jarvis’s hand remaining hovering over his hip. He laughed – a choked, dry sound. “You really meant it when you said you had no regrets, didn’t you? Well done, J. Had me worried there for a minute.”

Jarvis blinked, gazing calmly at his creator.

“With all due respect, you were worrying yourself, sir.” When Tony shot his head up again to stare at him, Jarvis continued – completely unperturbed. “Don’t think I haven’t been able to pick up on your elevated heart rate. You are still uncertain.”

His hand dropped from his hip and Tony narrowed his eyes, reaching down to put Jarvis’s hand back again.

“Getting less uncertain by the second thank you,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing further. “What? You think I’m put off by this? You and I both know I’m the most shameless person here, J. I’m not concerned about me – not anymore, at least. I’m worried about what _you_ want to do. How much _you_ want to give to this. I’m constantly testing you all the time, buddy. Wouldn’t be much of an inventor if I didn’t.”

He tightened his hold on Jarvis’s hand, the warmth in those fingers effectively proving to be a reassuring comfort in that moment.

“Autonomy,” he repeated. “Prove it. Prove it to me, J. You saying you have feelings for me or something? You saying you’re sentient in that meatsuit there? Kissing me just because I did it first isn’t gonna fully cut it, though I do give you full marks for getting the hang of the basics so quickly. Very nice mouth you have there. Well done.”              

Jarvis noticeably paused, and Tony watched those pupils contract, dilate… rotate, circle quizzically – that blond head tilting ever so faintly to the side as Jarvis thought over his words, tried to come to terms with what his creator had said.

Or, more accurately, what his creator had asked of him.

“I…”

And there it was. That hesitation. That singular, _human_ moment that Tony felt rather smugly at for finally seeing. He had Jarvis right where he wanted him. This… _this_ was where it counted. Where everything fell into place. Everything from tonight led up to this one, small, terrifying moment.

Tony knew that whatever direction Jarvis wanted to take this now meant that he was still fucked either way. But that was all part of the fun. All part of the learning process.

It’s what made it genuine.

And Tony, above everything else, was nothing if not genuine.

“Feel…”

Jarvis stopped, his brows knotting ever so faintly together, as if the word that rolled from his lips was foreign, was one that he’d never heard before, was one that he had trouble working his synthetic tongue over. He swallowed – another invigoratingly human trait – and took a further step closer. Right up in Tony’s personal space, his ‘bubble of self-genius’ as the brunet had jokingly referred to it over the years. His hand tightened around his creator’s hip. Tony smiled thinly. His dark eyes gave nothing away.

Jarvis raised his head then, cobalt eyes finding deep hazel.

Whatever he was going to say was cut off when pale lips leant back in, and Tony knew he’d clenched him right where it mattered as he calmly leant back against the table, stroking his hand back through light blond locks as Jarvis moved his lips, pressed in again, tightened his hand on Tony’s waist and slipped his free hand down his chest, slender fingers tracing the thrumming blue of the arc reactor embedded neatly within his skin.

He broke away, his words a soft whisper over Tony’s warm mouth, the shorter man having for the minute found himself momentarily distracted from the moment by that slender hand pressing to the electromagnet, keeping a firm touch upon its pulsing surface.

“I _feel_ …”

Tony blinked, meeting sharp blue eyes again.

“Kind of already said that, Jarv. A couple of times now. Wanna expand your vocabulary a bit or do I have to—”

He grinned, Jarvis wasting no time in leaning back in, back down, his kiss warm and steady, growing in pressure, in intensity as those pale lips moved with confident strides over Tony’s steadily reddening mouth. Tony matched him kiss for kiss, unable to resist chuckling into that warm mouth, his hand sliding up to thread through the fingers Jarvis continued to rest over the reactor in his chest. Another groan parted his mouth, loud and clear, as that strong yet soft mouth – delicate in its touch and caresses over his own – swept down now, found his throat… a warm pulse of kisses against flesh greeting him in a welcoming haze of sensation as Tony’s eyes slipped closed and his head tilted back.

He hadn’t even had to tell Jarvis to do anything.

 _This_ was why it mattered. _This_ was why Tony had been so eager to get his answer, to get Jarvis to prove himself to him.

He wanted autonomy, and he got it.

All he had to do was use it.

And he was doing a damn good job of it so far.

The pulse of lips by his jugular caused his eyes to open, half-lidded and lazy as Tony simply let him take the wheel, let him work things out for himself – Jarvis stepping closer yet again and sliding chest flush against chest, Tony finding himself enveloped in the heat of the man before him as those wiry arms wrapped around him, pulled him closer… lips nuzzling by his shoulder and pressing feather-light kisses of adoration by his clavicle.

A gentle rub, an eager grind of a body in efforts to get even _closer_ caused Tony to hiss, his head falling back once more against the swell of a groin inadvertently bucking inwards to glide over him. The groan that echoed from his throat this time was purely physical in nature, purely a low, pleased hum at the friction that burned inside his abdomen, and he dropped both arms to wrap around thin hips, hands splayed down the graceful curve of Jarvis’s spine.

He heard a gasp, and what surprised him was that it was from Jarvis.

The blond stopped, paused, pulled back. Didn’t move his hands from Tony’s back. Didn’t step away. But Tony blinked his eyes open regardless, calmly looking back at the blond with an eyebrow arched inquisitively.

“What, you stop the moment I feel good? Doesn’t make for a promising start, J,” he reminded him, lips twitching upwards into his trademark Cheshire grin. Jarvis ignored the quip (again amusing Tony because of it), and instead opted for merely watching Tony with hooded eyes, his mouth fluttering open and closed, as if he was trying to say something but not quite finding the words. Tony instead answered for him, his grin triumphant now as he smiled.

“You’re the one scared, aren’t you J?” He mused. “Scared of what you can do in that body now. Don’t know where to take it, how to take it… what to do with all these thoughts humming around in that synthetic brain of yours. You’re confusing your programming with your desires… what you _want_ and what you _have to do_ are two completely different things all mixing together and turning your head into a baby bottle full of jelly. Nice to eat, but difficult to get at unless you know how to suck your way past that seemingly impenetrable layer separating you from the good stuff. Am I right? I’m right, aren’t I?” He chuckled, offering Jarvis a comforting rub over his hips. Jarvis turned his head, his gaze clouding… hazing over with an expression of pensive thought.

It was a while until he spoke.

“Sir…”

Tony shook his head.

“Baby steps, J.”

Jarvis looked at him again, one brow arched delicately as he narrowed his blue eyes into a frown at his creator.

“I do believe you were the one to tell me to run before I walked, sir.”

Tony raised a hand, his fingers dipping once more through the soft blond locks upon the man’s head, carding through the strands he was met with and smiling as Jarvis instinctively leant into his touch. Without a word. Completely on his own.

“For you I’ll make an exception.”

If Tony felt a familiar pleasant ache in his heart, an ache that accompanied a satisfied pulse of warmth not unlike the continuous pulsing of the arc reactor in his chest at the softened expression that entered Jarvis’s eyes at that, completely _human_ , completely _thankful_ – he didn’t comment. Not with words.

He let his meaning known with his mouth, his kiss quick but no less indulgent than the ones that Jarvis himself had given him merely moments prior, Tony’s arms tightening around those thin hips and wrapping around Jarvis’s body like the suit of his armour that Jarvis would so often wrap around him when Iron Man was needed in the world.

This time the satisfied groan that echoed through the air between them was from Jarvis.

As he pulled back, he felt long fingers tighten around his own.

“Sir…” Jarvis’s voice was a soft whisper. He met dark hazel eyes, his expression sincere, softened. Determined. Genuine. “I feel… _right_.”

Tony’s smile was the widest it had ever been.


End file.
